


Chasing Ghosts

by Matloc



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Afterlife!AU, I'm absolute trash, M/M, Trippy as hell, sorry this fic exists, verbal diarrhea basically
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-02
Updated: 2015-05-02
Packaged: 2018-03-28 18:32:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3865309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Matloc/pseuds/Matloc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p></p><blockquote>
  <p>    <em>If you loved me, would you die for me?</em><br/></p>
</blockquote>It is only after his death that Kuroko finally meets Akashi.
            </blockquote>





	Chasing Ghosts

**Author's Note:**

> ~~clearly I was mad toked up while writing this  ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)~~  This one’s trippy as hell, so I’m sorry for any aneurysms this wall of text might cause. But… yay! Space imagery?  _(:3 」∠)_
> 
> I found my inspiration from two things:
> 
>   1. The title of [this fic](http://strangulated-harlot.tumblr.com/post/116702963345/the-boy-who-dies-of-lovesickness-side-black) practically set off a light bulb in my head. Made me think, “Well, what if Kuroko DOES die of love-sickness?” and voilà! Here you have it! Having said that:  **this thing is in no way related to the fic**   **I linked**. SO PLEASE DON’T KILL ME FOR WRITING THIS TRASH I’M SORRY /crying
>   2. But mostly this trashwork is inspired by [this song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xvDTAHJy3r4). Though my fic has a sort of happier(?!) ending… 8)
> 

> 
>  

The void. Unlike all human fantasies woven from words, it pulsates. It breathes. 

It moves in step with Kuroko. Like a lethargic animal whose hollow innards bleed white wherever Kuroko touches. The area under his feet glows like a tile from the musical squares he once saw at an arcade. Lighting up with a ding when stepped on—except in here, there is no sound.

Inside the void, it’s much different. The soft light dies when Kuroko lifts his foot, and he is swallowed again by the abyss. A vast nothingness that sucks up his whole world, because he can’t even see his hands. Unless he keeps walking.

And he keeps walking, but he can’t tell if he’s moving. Or if this void moves for him, leaving him stuck in the middle of a web of shadows. Kuroko thinks  _he_  is also but a shadow. Invisible, immaterial unless and until the lights paint his feet into existence.

He is black and he is nothing, and when he walks he is framed in white contours. Like a ghost who's only visible up to his silhouette, as though everything inside him, his very essence, has leaked out. Only to be devoured by the black hole that traps Kuroko in its amorphous jaws.

He doesn’t know how long he’s been here, and as he digs through his mind he finds no memories of the dark. Every moment in this void is exactly like the last. Just a further trek into darkness that consumes the echo of light he left behind him.

That is until he sees something that has a form. A transparent shape, it is no more than a cube with neon white outlines. It spins on its edges at a speed Kuroko cannot tell if he’s actually meant to perceive. But this void does not bend to the laws of the universe, because it is nothing and everything at the same time.

Kuroko walks towards it and suddenly the space around him  _does_  bend, the floor or whatever base that’s been holding him upright now slips from under his feet. He can feel the void undulate beneath him like ocean waves, and the cube struggles like a boat caught in the currents dragging it to Kuroko in a tempestuous rush. That when Kuroko, swaying off kilter with the waves, tries to regain his balance, he ends up stepping on the cube.

Everything stops, just like that.

If ‘normal’ is a state of static nothingness, then Kuroko is somewhat glad to have gone back to it. He’s forgotten to move again, and the cube dips under his weight. It's like he’s pressed a switch, because the light lining the edges explodes and then folds over every side of the cube.

Now it shines like a beacon, and its light uncovers a sight that leaves Kuroko in awe. There is an entire row of these cubes, each bigger and floating higher than the last.

He springs from the first cube and begins to hop on the disjointed path of clear stairs. Each one dips with his step and bursts into light that seems to pierce the darkness. 

He looks back to find that the darkness doesn’t follow, doesn’t consume the shining vestige of his past as he treads on. Everything starts to connect; he can tell time apart from the breaking shadows, his reality that beckons him over crystal stairs.

As he continues to ascend the white light, one step at a time, it begins to illuminate a pristine canvas laid out like a tablecloth. It stretches to invisible lengths that he can’t pinpoint in the planes of his mind. As he gets closer to it, the white expanse glows brighter and brighter like fire so hot that it evaporates its own colors into dust—sprinkled over a carpet of diamonds. 

Because when he steps on the floor it glitters like starlight, and the cubes behind him melt and splatter themselves over the encompassing void. Big and small and tiny splotches of milk dot the black dome and Kuroko finally  _sees_ it.

He sees the universe revolve around him.

Space that’s glimmering in its infant stages—where there are no planets or asteroids, only a sea of stars floating above him, around him, and underneath him like he is the center of gravity that’s keeping them stable.

At the end of the universe stands a figure draped in blood. Not a colorless phantom like what Kuroko has become, but a visual cacophony of hues that burn roses into his vision. Hope springs up from hollow depths, as if Kuroko’s a drowning man at last breaking through his watery prison. He heads towards it on staggering footsteps, and the only thing that stops him from breaking out into a jog is when the figure—it moves.

It turns towards him, looks at him through blinks of wine and gold. Those mismatched eyes are the first thing Kuroko notices. Just like when he had first met him years ago.

“Kuroko Tetsuya,” Akashi greets nonchalantly, and then offers nothing else. It doesn’t come as a surprise to Kuroko, who’s always been brushed off like dirt. There was a time when he used to find it utterly vexing, but all his emotions have been drained out through the passage of time.

He tries to speak but there is nothing in his body to form words with. He is chalked out glass while Akashi stands before him, gleaming in vivid colors. It is as though he’s been feasting on gemstones until all the iron in his blood has crystallized into rubies. Of course, not even the abyss could taint Akashi, a god hiding behind cracks of human imperfection. Cracks Kuroko’s besotted mind can no longer see.

An eternity passes before Akashi starts talking. "I must say I am quite surprised to see you go so far to prove yourself to me. But for what? In hopes that I would throw your way even a smattering of pretty words?“ 

A ghost of a smile passes his face, and Kuroko feels emptier than before. He wants to blame Akashi, but he finds out the real reason when he glances downwards, expecting to see invisible hands.

Instead he sees color begin to ooze from his abdomen, scarlet rivulets pouring out of a tear in his cellophane flesh. The wound is huge and deep, but pain is a forgotten feeling. Not even a sting as he holds his stomach and sees red drip through his fingers.

The only sensation that he perceives is his throat falling through his body. He is choking on a soundless voice, and he is bleeding words he could never say. He feels the last of his humanity spilling out of his wound, and for once Akashi looks more than pleased with him.

Perhaps because he is able to see Kuroko’s insides dissolve in blood.

"I am impressed, nonetheless,” Akashi continues with brutal honesty. “Since you're offering your soul to me so readily, I’m rather inclined to keep you with me.”

Kuroko finally hears the sound of his heart beating. Once. Twice.

He waits.

Only silence follows after.

Akashi holds out a pale hand. “Come.”

Kuroko reaches out with trembling fingers and slips them into the other’s warm grip, glass against skin.

He gasps when he sees Akashi’s colors flood through him.

The universe bursts into blood-stained flowers.

 

 


End file.
